


What's Scotch Got To Do With It?

by remarkable1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accosting Poor Snape, Choking on a Dick, Coming down her throat, Drizzling Breasts with Scotch, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, F/M, Hogwarts staff parties will never be the same, Hot damn a two for one, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Passing Out, Rough Oral Sex, Snape doesn't seem to mind, Sucking Tits, dragging a witch back to one's rooms to fuck her brains out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 09:50:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remarkable1/pseuds/remarkable1
Summary: Snape, Hooch & Vector get it on post-party in Minerva's sitting room.





	What's Scotch Got To Do With It?

Potter Pr0n Drabble for September 2010

The informal bash to start out the new school year, held in McGonagall's private study, was winding down. It hadn't been bad, overall. Lots of good malt Scotch from Minerva's cousin had lubed the brains of the Hogwarts staff quite nicely. Only Hooch and Vector were still conscious, Snape noted, and everyone else had pissed off back to their own beds, including Minerva. He cracked his back as he staggered to his feet, leaving the two remaining witches to their quiet conversation. Gods, the Scottish sauce had kicked his arse!

An incredibly inebriated Hooch grabbed him by the arm as he passed. "Snape!"

"What do you want, witch?"

"We, Snape. What do WE want." Hooch nodded to Vector, who was staring at Severus with unbridled lust.

He backed up slowly, searching for the door handle and missing by a mile.

Vector lurched behind him, running her hands over his shoulders. She hooked her fingers around the lapels of his gentleman's coat and pulled down sharply.

"What are you doing?"

"WE, Snape. What are WE doing." Hooch dropped to her knees in front of the Potions Master, her nimble fingers working at the fly to his trousers.

Vector was unbuttoning his crisp linen shirt from behind, her arms encircling his chest like twin snakes. Her tongue made a blazing trail around the nape of his neck.

"Stop it! Both of you!"

"Come on, Snape, lighten up. I'm going to unleash your Slytherin beast and suck it dry. Can you handle that?" Hooch leered up at him as she peeled back his layers.

"Great Merlin, what the hell-"

But the silver-haired temptress already had his trousers and pants down, her cool fingers taking out his erect cock.

He hissed when Vector yanked his shirt down and off his arms, her small tits suddenly pushing into his back.

"Bloody Merlin's ghost!" Snape wrapped one scarred fist in Hooch's short hair when she slithered her lips around his purple knob. The talented witch lubricated his length with her  
saliva, infuriatingly slowly taking all of it down her talented throat.

Severus cursed again and held on for dear life with both hands now, thrusting sharply against her face.

Vector pulled up a chair next to him, kneeling on it to reach his mouth and claim it with her own. The dark-haired witch was doing wicked things with her nails on either side of his torso, running lightly down his chest and back. His eyes closed, and tongue tangled fervently with her delicious, Scotch flavored own. Septima rubbed her tits back and forth on his left forearm, the hardened nipples rubbing erotically over his Dark Mark, sending electric shocks straight to his addled brain and tightening balls.

Trousers around his knees, the dark wizard moaned at Hooch's deep suction milking his witch-covered cock so magnificently.

Holy fuck, these birds were fucking hot for him!

Snape blindly reached to his right and grappled an abandoned, half-empty bottle of malt Scotch off the mantle. He pulled back from Vector, continuing to plow into Hooch's oral honey-hole one-handed.

Smirking lustily, he drizzled the foamy beverage over Rolanda's tits, pausing every few moments to suck the liquor off her tight nipples.

Hooch's eyes were watering now as her tongue ran circles over his thick wood. The blood pooled thickly in his shaft, the head mushrooming to gigantic proportions as it began choking the small witch.

Snape took a long swig of the Scotch and hurled the rest into the fireplace in a brief blaze of glory. He shouted roughly down at Hooch in the throes of his orgasm. "Suck my fucking broomstick, witch! You wanted a taste of the Potion Professor's secret recipe, woman? This one's on the house!"

With a mighty roar, he doubled over, jerking erratically down her throat amidst her strangled attempts to breathe and push him away.

Snape's low, cracked baritone crept into her ear, not to be denied with its demand. "Swallow it all, don't you dare spit it out now!"

Hooch gagged and choked the hot jets of semen down her esophagus, snorting a small amount up into her nasal passages in a fit of coughing once he withdrew from her.

Snape's glittering eyes spoke volumes, sneering imperiously down his hooked nose at the sputtering woman still kneeling at his feet.

Vector had quietly passed out over the end of the couch, sometime during the Scotch being flung into the fire and the grand come finale. Severus would love to be a fly on the wall in the morning when Minerva discovered her half-naked Arithmancy professor, covered in old liquor, draped over her sitting room couch.

Severus fastened his trousers and extended a hand to Rolanda. The bleary-eyed woman wiped the streaming emissions from her facial orifices on one generous sleeve as Snape pulled her to a wobbly stand.

The two formidable professors eyed each other warily until Snape broke the tense, post-coital standoff.

"All these years, and I was never aware of this… hidden talent… of yours….." He let the silky end of the innocuous observation hang in the air like so much overripe fruit, dense on the bough.

The witch's silver-grey eyes, sharp as a hawk, bore into his own. "There's plenty more where that came from."

He could read the invitation dripping from her voice like a Matador waving a red cape in front of the bull.

His grin was feral as he snatched her by the arm; limbs, cloaks and the last bottle of Scotch disappearing from the cozy sitting room, for an unforgettable night of pleasure between the indomitable Potions Master and Hogwarts Flying Instructor.


End file.
